Tragedy
by Storymaster Caith
Summary: In the world of ninja, those greatest love stories don't have happy endings. SasorixKankuro, oneshot


**Tragedy **

_**WARNING: This story deals with a warping of the naruto time continum and a malexmale relationship that is heavily implied but not explicitly described. If neither of these above things suit your cup of tea, then please feel free to press the back button at any given time. The rest of you, thank you for reading.**_

**oOo**

_Two households, both alike in dignity,_

_In fair Verona, where we lay our scene-_

Kankuro knew Sasori hadn't died.

The Ten had been in pieces; he had rebuilt them. The cave had been in shambles; he'd salvaged what he could. The distorted shell of what once had been the Scorpion King was almost unrecognizable beneath the blades that had finally decided the fight. The face that looked up at him through that forest of steel was one he barely remembered, and the crow's feet that had been appearing on that night he disappeared had been smoothed by chakra, veneer, and paint.

He'd felt his heart jump into his throat, when the pink-haired medic described the fight; but deep within he knew the truth, and though Sunakagure mourned he couldn't help but feel the smallest sense of satisfaction, because Destiny had not forgotten him.

He merely had to wait. And he was used to waiting.

_From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,_

_Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean._

Many thought it rage that drove him and he let them think it. As the years passed he grew in power and in majesty and when his Kazekage called he answered. They called him many things; Kankuro of the Painted Face, The Puppet Master (as though he was the only one, and that always made him smile, because if he snapped his fingers they would find out just how many there were). The Shadow was a name which he argued should belong to his brother-in-law, honestly, but Shikamaru was simply too lazy to fight for it.

And with every mission, every puppet, every performance, another door unlocked, leading him deeper into the labyrinth that brought them that much closer together.

When he was alone, he would whisper his beloved's name, and wonder if he built himself a new heart out of sturdier material than love.

_From forth the fatal loins of these two foes_

_A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;_

His information was sound and his position was secure. His last genin team had moved on, gaining their chunin vests in the Country of Rain; the final performance in the Playhouse's season had closed to standing ovations. He had handpicked the next Master, from a goup of chunin he had fought with in the last war; the one who whispered to his puppet, when he thought no on was looking.

Kankuro left that night under the cover of darkness, clad in black. The moon shown off his paint and turned him into a ghoul stalking Sunakagure's streets; when the sun came up the next morning there was no proof he had been there, save the silent figure of the Kazekage, who reacted to the news that the Troupe Master had disappeared with remarkable calm.

After all, Kankuro had already said goodbye to him.

_Whose misadventured piteous overthrows_

_Do with their death bury their parents' strife._

They faced one another on an open field of battle, somewhere near the desert's center. His foe smiled and there was no life to the smile, no warmth or kindness, only the grinding of gears and screech of rusty hinges. Despite it all, Kankuro could do nothing more than smile back, for the first time in many years feeling happy.

"Hello, love." He said. "I've come to kill you."

_A glooming peace this morning with it brings,_

_The sun for sorrow will not show his head._

Both had learned since last they met, and the advantage of a body hurt by nothing had long since passed Sasori by; Kakuzu's death had put to rest those machinations. The upper hand moved first to one and then the other as the day wore on from boiling heat to the cool of twilight until finally they were body to body, blade-to-blade, and poison touched the air like the fragrance of flowers.

_Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things_.

"Stop LOOKING at me!!"

"You fool. Why would I stop?"

"Because I'm hideous!"

"You're human."

The sun goes down and the fight continued; puppet after puppet locked into a mortal combat, equally unable to kill or be killed. Their fingers danced like butterflies and when they came together Crow whispered to Scorpion _I knew you wouldn't die on me. _

And Scorpion's long dead heart began beating.

_Some shall be pardoned and some punished_

When the search team discovered the site of the conflict they could only stand and stare at the battlefield. As they combed the wreckage of blades and bombs and detonation tags a woman and her lover scoured the ground, searching.

It was the woman who found them, laying on their sides, as though they had been watching the stars. They were entwined, arms wrapped about each other, long artist's fingers holding shoulders and the handles of two identical blades, those inches not buried in skin glinting purple with the gentlest touch of poison's breath.

About them stood their puppets, a dummy honor guard, Karasu and Third back to back, two motely soldiers asleep on watch. Red mixed with brunette and paint with pale skin, and it seemed as though they were kissing; the bright red of their combined blood was a shade that Temari had never seen before, and a color she would remember for the rest of her days.

And if the Cherry Blossom Fist had been there, she would not have recognized the face of Akasuna-no-Sasori, not the fine lines on his aging face or the tints of white touching his fading hair.

They were buried there together, bodies wrapped in sand and crushed until nothing remained but smears of paint and blood and tears and their hearts finally touched. An inquiry was made, and nothing came of it; for only brother and sister knew that their puppeteer had been a man who loved not wisely, but too well.

_For never was a story of more woe…_

"_**Sasori-sama?" **_

"_**What is it?" **_

"_**I love you, Sasori-sama." **_

"_**Stop being so foolish., Kankuro-kun."**_

_than this of Juliet and her Romeo._

_**A/N: Alright, I'm going to be honest. I wrote this mainly for myself, the same as Storybook. I recently saw a couple of episodes of RomeoxJuliet (which I highly recommend to people who enjoy a good hopeless love story) and it reminded me how much I loved the idea of doomed romance. Thus, the above brainchild. I'm hoping that the course of events is clear- I tried as best as I could. I'm not going to spend time defending the pairing because I don't think I have to, but I would like to know what you thought of it.**_


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